


The Delivery Was A Bit Strenuous, By Normal Standards

by MerHums



Series: The Grand Scheme of Things [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, But everyone is fine, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Bonding, Happy Ending, Hospitalization, M/M, Made Up medical conditions, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Omega Verse, Possessive Sex, Rough Sex, mentions of potential infant death, we promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5330243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerHums/pseuds/MerHums
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft and Greg are getting ready for the baby, when something goes wrong. They'll pull through, but it's going to take a family and a little bit of hope. Luckily, they have both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Delivery Was A Bit Strenuous, By Normal Standards

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the tags. We promise a happy ending. This is part three of [The Grand Scheme of Things](http://archiveofourown.org/series/330403)

Mycroft felt big as a house as he made his way into their home. Right now all he wanted was a hot bath and to put his feet up, but most of all he wanted his alpha. With the birth rapidly approaching, Greg had taken to preparing the baby's room, clearly delighted in the domestic side of things. Mycroft was more than glad to let him have it. And as the day drew nearer, Greg was even more certain they were having a girl, though the scans had been inconclusive. “Gregory?” he called, setting his umbrella aside.

"I'm in the baby's room," Greg called back, setting aside his paint brush. "Come here! See what I did today!"

“Oh my,” said Mycroft neutrally as he stepped inside. At least he was fairly certain it was a tree.

“What do you think?” Greg asked excitedly, picking up the paintbrush again and adding a small worm to one of the leaves.

“It will certainly ignite their imagination.”

Greg nodded and looked over with a grin, only to have it fade at the neutral expression on Mycroft’s face. “You don’t like it do you?”

Mycroft smiled and shook his head. “I never said that, did I?” He came to Greg, wrapped his arms around him, burying his head in the crook of his neck, feeling his belly between them.

“Is it bad?” Greg asked, wrapping his arms around Mycroft and kissing the side of his head. “I tried really hard, but I never was good at painting.”

“It’s beautiful because you made it.”

Greg grinned. “It was supposed to look like this,” he said, pulling a crumpled and wrinkled sheet of paper from his pocket, smoothing it out. “I sketched it out at lunch today.”

“Wow. Maybe you should have done the sketch instead. Or have you ever done a tracing? We could project it on the wall for you.”

“Oh.” Greg smiled. “That might be better. See, you are the smart one.”

“Frequently.” Mycroft turned his head and kissed him. “I’ll see about getting that set up for you tomorrow. Right now I’d just like a hot bath.”

“Can I join?” Greg asked, pulling back with a smile. “Either way, I suppose I’ll go run it for you.” He kissed Mycroft. “Go on and get ready, yeah?”

“I’d like that.” Mycroft watched him go, then shook his head at the thing on the wall before going to join him. He stripped down in the bedroom, looking forward to when he could wear proper suits again and ran a hand along his belly, smiling as he felt the baby kick.

“She squirming around?” Greg asked, standing up as the bath ran.

“Again. Barely still. As if she’s knocking on the door ready to come out.”

“Well, you can tell her to wait until you have your bath. And the room is ready,” Greg said, undressing. “I mean, you’re not due for another month.”

“I know. I’m sure she’ll wait.” Mycroft made his way into the bathroom, but waited for Greg to help him before climbing in.

Greg helped Mycroft into the tub, his awkward weight and build making it difficult as he settled between Greg’s legs. “So,” Greg murmured, taking a flannel and soaping it up. “Anything at work you can talk about?”

“Stopped a war. Maybe two.” Mycroft closed his eyes as he leaned back against Greg.

“Tired?” Greg asked with concern. Even at the start of his pregnancy, Mycroft had been exceptionally tired, and now, it was even worse.

“Yes,” Mycroft mumbled, already starting to drift off in the warm water. He knew he was probably working too hard. He should really cut back on his hours.

“Well, rest, then dinner,” Greg said quietly, feeling Mycroft relax into him.

“I’m glad you’re here,” said Mycroft softly, comforted by his alpha’s scent.

“I love you,” Greg murmured, kissing the top of his head.

“I love you too.” It had gotten easier to say over the last few months. Mycroft snuggled against his chest and did fall asleep, knowing Greg would keep him safe.

Greg sighed, shifting slightly to reach out of the tub, and feel for his trouser pocket, tugging his mobile out. [ **He’s working too hard.]**  He sent the message off, and waited for the reply he knew would be only moments away.

 

_[Tell him he will stay home the next three days. I’ll bring anything that needs his attention. A]_

**[Thank you. I worry]**  Greg replied with a relieved smile at the message.

 

_[We all do. A]_

Greg let Mycroft sleep a bit longer, then nuzzled into his neck, scenting him. “My? C’mon love. Up. Water’s getting cold.”

Mycroft stretched. “Okay.” He leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Help me up?”

Greg nodded and stood, helping Mycroft carefully out of the tub. He reached out and grabbed a towel, kneeling and starting at Mycroft’s feet, drying him gently.

Mycroft smiled affectionately. “You spoil me.”

“Nonsense,” Greg said, moving up his legs.

Mycroft ran his fingers through his hair.

Greg smiled up at him, and stood, wrapping the towel around Mycroft’s waist and reaching for another one to dry his stomach and chest. He ran a thumb over Mycroft’s nipple, and down over the curve of his swelling breasts. “I wonder how large these will get,” he murmured. “Arms up.”

Mycroft smiled and obeyed. “You just want to touch every inch of me.”

“Can you blame me?” Greg asked, kissing his neck as he draped the towel over his shoulders, grabbing a third for himself.

“I suppose not. My scent is changing.”

“Mhmm,” Greg said, wrapping him in his arms again. “But you smell delicious.” He ran his lips down Mycroft’s throat, nipping gently. “Do you want dinner?”

“I should eat for the little one. But you’re tempting.”

“You could eat in bed,” Greg said wheedlingly, moving his lips further and further down, fastening on one of Mycroft’s swollen nipples.

Mycroft groaned, head falling back. “Yes, Gregory.” He was so sensitive right now.

“Bed?” Greg murmured.

“Yes.”

Greg took his hand, leading him in. Mycroft sat carefully on the edge and Greg reached out, taking the towel from around his shoulders. "Lay back."

Mycroft did so, settling the best he could and letting his legs part, displaying himself for his alpha as he licked his lips.

Greg dropped to his knees, sliding his hands up Mycroft's thighs and under the towel. "I want to taste," he murmured, running his hand over Mycroft's cock.

Mycroft moaned softly. “I’m yours.” His cock twitched with interest at the touch.

Greg pressed his knees up, undoing the towel. He leaned forward, teasing Mycroft's rim with a moan.

Mycroft spread himself wider, adjusting his belly, groaning at the feel of Greg’s tongue. “Yes, Gregory.”

"You taste different," Greg growled, feeling his cock begin to swell as he lapped over Mycroft's hole, slick coating his tongue.

Mycroft groaned. “I can smell you. You want me,” he moaned.

"I'm going to fuck you," Greg said. "Going to lick you open, put you on your hands and knees and fuck you till you're begging for my knot."

“Do it, Gregory.” Mycroft closed his eyes as he couldn't see over his stomach anyway. Greg’s wicked tongue was hot and teasing.

"You're my omega," Greg muttered. "My lover. Carrying my pups." He nipped, marking the inside of Mycroft's thigh before putting his tongue and fingers to work, opening him.

“Ah. Pup. One,” groaned Mycroft.

"Mm," Greg growled possessively. "For now."

Mycroft cracked an eye open. “Good Lord, this has been hard enough, let’s give it a break before we start talking about numbers two through five.”

Greg stopped, raising his head. "Are we stopping at five?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow and crawling up onto the bed, lying beside Mycroft. He drew him in for a kiss, stroking a hand over his stomach. "I love you, pups or no pups," he mumbled apologetically. "You are not a breeding machine."

“I know. It’s your Alpha coming out. It’s been stronger and stronger the more pregnant I get.” Mycroft leaned in and kissed him.

"Do you have any idea what I want to do to you?" Greg asked, lapping over their bond mark.

“Tell me.”

"I want to knot you until you're so full of my seed that you can barely breath," Greg murmured, reaching down to toy at Mycroft's hole. "I want to mark you up; bruise you with my fingers and teeth until everyone knows you're mine. I want to suck these," he said, rubbing Mycroft's nipples with his slick fingers until they were gleaming, "until your milk comes in." He growled, low and hungry. "I want you to fuck me, I want to put you on your back and ride you until I come, and rub it into your skin until you smell like only me. I want you to bite me and bruise me until everyone can see I belong to you. I want to breed you over and over again, until everyone sees what a good alpha I am, what a good omega you are. So they know what I did to you. How many times I've claimed you." Greg moaned, turning his face into Mycroft's neck, fucking him with his fingers, slow and steady. "I just want you so much Mycroft."

Mycroft sucked in a breath. “God, Gregory,” he groaned, dropping a hand to finger at his alpha’s ass in turn. He ached for all the things Gregory had said, wanted to beg on his hands and knees for his knot.

"What do you want?" Greg asked, pushing into Mycroft's touch. "Tell me."

“You. I want to drown in you,” he breathed.

"Let me fuck you," Greg murmured.

“Do it, Gregory. Take me and make me yours.”

Greg moved away, helping Mycroft to his hands and knees, stomach brushing the bed. "Gorgeous," Greg said, nipping a line down Mycroft's spine. "Mine."

Mycroft got as comfortable as he could, “Do it, please. Alpha. Mine.”

Greg groaned and lined up, pushing in without warning, feeling Mycroft spread around him.

Mycroft gave a noise he’d be embarrassed of any other time. “Yes, yes,” he moaned, feeling his alpha fill him.

"Love this," Greg said. "So hot around me. So tight."

"Yours." Mycroft relaxed underneath his alpha.

"Can I bite you again?" Greg murmured, tilting his head and running his teeth along Mycroft's neck.

Mycroft offered his throat in answer.

Greg nipped, sucking a mark below their bond bite. "I'm going to knot you," he warned, thrusting in. "And then bite you again."

“Yes, Gregory,” moaned Mycroft, loving the familiar feel of being filled over and over by his alpha.

"Been a while," Greg muttered. "Missed this."

“I’m sorry. I know I’ve been busy.”

"Not your fault, love," Greg said, slipping a hand under him, searching out his breast and toying with his nipple. "C'mon. Lemme hear you."

Mycroft moaned and rocked back against him.

Greg pulled out, pushing in again, slow and taunting.

“More, more,” groaned Mycroft.

Greg let out another possessive growl, and thrust in hard, moving his hands to Mycroft's hips.

Trembling, resting on his forearms, Mycroft offered his throat again, needing all of it.

"Want my knot?" Greg asked, knowing he was close. "Want my bite?"

“Yes. Claim me, Gregory. My alpha.”

Greg thrust deep, knot forcing its way in as he bit down.

Mycroft cried out loudly, trembling on his alpha’s knot, feeling the pleasure and their bond course through his system.

Greg released his bite, kissing and licking over the mark. "I love you," he murmured, feeling Mycroft trembling beneath him. He coaxed Mycroft to his side, settling them down gently.

Mycroft smiled at the feel of Greg's hand on his belly. "I love you too."

"Go ahead and sleep, love. I'll wake you up for dinner, yeah? Anything you want me to make?" Greg asked quietly.

"Nothing I can think of. I don't know why I'm so tired," he yawned.

"Because you're pregnant and you've been working too hard," Greg said. "And we just had some pretty amazing sex, so there's that." He kissed the back of Mycroft's head as his knot deflated. "Oh. You're off work for the next three days, love. Anthea will bring anything by that needs your attention."

"All right." Mycroft was too tired to argue.

Greg pulled out gently, and slipped off the bed. “Rest,” he ordered with a smile, covering Mycroft with the blankets, and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Love you,” he whispered, and turned out the lights.

**

Sherlock was on the sofa with his arm thrown over his eyes as John came in. He caught of whiff of the food John carried and his stomach roiled. Ungracefully, he darted for the loo.

“Sherlock?” John called out, setting down the food. “Again, sweetheart?” He sighed and tucked the food away into the fridge, opening the window to get rid of the smell, going into the bathroom and kneeling beside Sherlock. “Just nausea, or vomiting this time?”

"Nausea," he muttered, holding the swell of his tummy. “Unfair. Mycroft only got tired."

“Yes, but he’s extremely tired,” John said, stroking his hair back. “Everyone’s rather worried actually. Your nausea should go away after the first trimester.”

Sherlock knelt back and leaned against his alpha, breathing him in.

“I put the food away. I’ll make some plain rice, and veg, all right?” John asked, giving him a chaste kiss.

Sherlock nodded. "But Mycroft will be fine," he said, getting back to his feet.

“He will be fine. Another month and he’ll be back to running the world.”

"He'll be glad for that."

“I’m sure Greg will be too,” John replied, leading the way out to the kitchen. “Think you can handle some tea?”

"Yes. Thank you." Sherlock sat at the table.

John made the tea, then started dinner, passing the mug over to Sherlock. “Why are you watching me?” he asked quietly, feeling the omega’s eyes on him.

Sherlock shrugged. "I enjoy watching you."

John chuckled. “Of course you do.” He brought over a plate of peeled and sliced cucumber, offering it to Sherlock.

Sherlock took it and started eating. "Do you want a boy or a girl?"

“I want a healthy child and mate,” John replied, setting a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder as he turned back to check the rice.

Sherlock turned his head and kissed the back of John's hand. Just then his mobile alerted and he grabbed it. He jumped to his feet. "It's Mycroft."

"Is he all right?" John asked, turning to Sherlock.

"He's gone into labor." Sherlock's eyes were wide. "It's early."

"All right." John turned off the pot. "Get your coat, let's go. It's not that early, he'll be fine. The baby should be all right too, just might need a little extra care."

Sherlock nodded and grabbed his coat, more worried than he'd admit.

**

“Mycroft?” Greg said, turning around at the scent of his distressed omega appearing in the kitchen. “What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked, hackles raising at the thought of a threat.

"The baby. I think," he said, holding his stomach. He groaned at a rush of wet. "There goes my water." He leaned against the doorframe, panting.

“Fuck,” Greg said, immediately turning off the pot with trembling hands. “All right. You’re not that early, right?” he said. “Just...just four weeks. Sit, Mycroft. How far apart at the contractions?” He dug out his mobile, calling Anthea.

“I don’t know.” Mycroft sunk into a chair, trying not to panic.

“Well, try and count. Are they close?” Greg asked, the groan from Mycroft giving him the answer. “Christ, do we have time to get to the hospital? Anthea! He’s in labor!”

“On my way,” she said calmly.

“Gregory,” gasped Mycroft, reaching for his hand.

Greg went to his knees, holding Mycroft’s hand. “Right here, love. Right here,” he repeated, letting Mycroft squeeze tight.

**

“Anthea!” John called out, Sherlock two steps ahead of him as the woman pointed them to a room down the hall.

Mycroft looked up as Sherlock came tumbling into the room. “They’re working on my daughter,” he said quietly. “Greg’s watching them.”

John followed him in a second after, picking Mycroft’s chart up and scanning it immediately, then checking the screens blinking above the bed. “All right,” John said firmly, looking Mycroft over. “I know you have to be sleepy from the medication and exhausted from the labor. You need to rest, Mycroft. She’s going to be fine.”

“I feel like I’ve been sleeping through half my pregnancy,” he grumbled.

“And now the pregnancy is over, you’re torn and you went into labor a month early,” John said, bringing out his doctor voice. “Sherlock will go to Greg,” John continued. “And you are going to sleep. I know the pain drip has to be kicking in. Stop fighting it.”

Mycroft grumbled but let his eyes shut. Sherlock watched his brother nod off, then picked up his hand and squeezed it when he knew he was safely asleep.

“You know, you two really should get over whatever it is that you’re still fighting about,” John said, raising his eyebrow. “Go to Greg. And be nice, or else I’ll make sure you call your mother.”

Sherlock blanched and went to go find Greg, knowing the alpha must be worried sick.

**

Greg didn’t even look away from the glass in front of him as Sherlock stepped into the small viewing room “She’s too small,” he whispered. “They’re all so big. I’m huge. She’s so small,” he said, one palm pressed to the window as he watched the surgeons. “Sherlock…”

“She’ll be fine,” promised Sherlock, with more confidence then he felt. “What did you name her?”

“Amaryllis,” Greg murmured. “Mycroft said it was a family name? Is he all right? I left, he told me to go with her so I did.”

“It is a family name. Aunt Lilah’s deceased sister, actually. She was quite the adventurer. Your Amaryllis will be just as bold, I am sure. And Mycroft is fine, just resting. John is with him.”

“Thank you,” Greg said. “I just…” he trailed off, shrugging helplessly.

“I know.” Carefully, he squeezed Greg’s shoulder, as that seemed the right action. He watched as the doctor’s worked over the tiny baby and could tell in a glance that they were experts.

“They’re good, right?” Greg asked. “You can see if they’re good. Are they worried? Deduce them, Sherlock, please.”

Sherlock nodded and started deducing, talking about the confidence and expertise of the lead doctor, the confidence of the team.

Greg shoulders slumped in relief, listening to the stream of data.

**

Mycroft opened his eyes slowly, body aching despite the drugs in his system. “Gregory?” he asked, even before he looked around.

“Yeah, love,” Greg said, raising his head and reaching out for Mycroft’s hand. “She’s fine. She’s out of the surgery, and in the NICU, but she’s fine. She’s breathing on her own and everything.”

“Thank God,” he tugged Greg closer to lean against him. “I’m okay?”

“You’re fine,” Greg said. “You tore a bit, but they’ve stitched you back up without a problem. Any more pregnancies though, and they suggest cesarean section.” He pressed his lips to Mycroft’s head.

“All right.” Mycroft closed his eyes again. “Gregory?”

“Yeah?” Greg asked, stroking a hand through Mycroft’s hair.

"I love you."

“I love you, too,” Greg murmured. “Next time you wake up, I’ll take you to see our daughter, all right?”

"Excellent. Sherlock and John were here."

“Yes, they were,” Greg replied with a chuckle. “John finally forced Sherlock to go home. He was kipping in the waiting room for a bit, just to be sure the surgery had no complications. Now. Sleep, love.”

“Everyone keeps wanting me to sleep,” grumbled Mycroft.

"You're half asleep already," Greg teased, but looked over his shoulder. He pushed the chair back against the wall, and came around to the other side of the bed. He climbed on and lay down, tucking Mycroft into his side. "Now will you sleep?" Greg asked quietly, stroking his hair back.

“Yes, alpha,” Mycroft smiled and nuzzled against him, drifting off and comforted by his scent.

Greg sighed, and pressed a kiss to his head.

**

“Sir Holmes? Inspector Lestrade?”

Greg lifted his head, yawning. “Oh. Sorry, doctor.”

The doctor laughed. “It’s fine. I understand. I’m Dr. Richards,” she said.

Mycroft stirred and opened his eyes. “May we see our daughter?”

“Yes, actually,” she said with a smile. “Afterwards, I do need to speak with you, but I have a wheelchair waiting in the hallway.”

“Thank you. And Mister Holmes is fine.”

“Yes sir, of course. Here, I’ll fetch the chair and a nurse to escort you down.”

She left and Greg turned to Mycroft, narrowing his eyes. “Sir Holmes?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” muttered Mycroft.

“Mycroft, are you a knight?” Greg asked, grinning. “Or am I shagging a Lord?”

“Possibly both,” said Mycroft. “That’s a conversation for another time.”

Greg raised his eyebrows, standing up. “All right then.” A nurse wheeled the chair in and Greg reached out to help Mycroft from the bed.

Mycroft settled in the chair, leaning forward a bit, eager to see Amaryllis and maybe even hold her. He was surprised to realize his omega instincts were that strong.

They went down, Greg wheeling the chair. “There she is,” the nurse said as they arrived in the NICU. “If you both put on a gown and mask, you can hold her. Mister Holmes, if you’d like to feed her, that is also suggested.”

“I would love to,” said Mycroft honestly.

They were soon settled and with the nurses help, Mycroft watched her finally latch on and start to drink. “She’s beautiful,” he said quietly.

“She has so much hair,” Greg murmured, sitting down beside them. “And it’s red. Bright, bloody, red hair, just like you.” He laughed, and tilted his head against Mycroft’s. “I can’t believe she’s ours.”

“I can. And I’m glad we worked things out. I couldn’t do this without you.”

Greg nodded. “I love you,” he murmured. “I dunno what I’d do without you.”

“I love you too,” said Mycroft, very softly, looking at his baby girl. “You always knew we’d have a daughter.”

“Yeah, I’m psychic, what can I say?” Greg asked. “The baby whisperer.” He smiled and turned his head, pressing a kiss to Mycroft’s cheek despite his mask.

Mycroft smiled. “She’ll be okay. We both will. Maybe now I won’t be so bloody tired all the time.” He glanced up as the doctor headed towards them.

“You shouldn’t be,” she said with a smile. “Are you two a bit more at ease now that you know what a strong little girl you have? She’s beautiful.”

“Yes. Thank you,” said Mycroft. “You and all your staff.”

“It’s not a problem. Here, if you like we can go into the consultancy room so I can ask you a few questions without you having to put Amaryllis down.”

“Of course.” Mycroft smiled as Greg stepped behind the wheelchair, oddly glad he didn’t have to walk yet.

Greg wheeled the pair in and took a seat in the chair. Dr. Richards smiled. “Now, first things first. Mycroft, you’ve torn and there was quite a bit of heavy bleeding, though I’m sure you’ve been told already. Any future births are suggested cesarean, just due to the complications. As far as Amaryllis, she’s a very healthy baby, despite being a month early, and actually, by her size, we’d estimate it’s closer to three weeks early. Now, is there anything that you can think of that could have set off your labor?”

Mycroft blushed and looked at Greg. “We were intimate an hour or so before.”

“Was it particularly rough or strenuous?”

Greg wet his lips, looking at Mycroft. “Ah...I suppose? By normal standards?”

Mycroft reached over and took his hand. “He bonded me again, perhaps that could have done it?”

Doctor Richards nodded. “That could do it, yes. However, before you feel guilty, I think you ought to know that had you not gone into labor today, you may have lost Amaryllis.”

Greg tightened his grip on the arm of his chair, eyes gone wide.

Mycroft went pale, his heart stopping. “Dr Richards?” he managed to get out.

“Mr. Holmes, you’d said you were feeling abnormally tired, correct?”

“My entire pregnancy I’ve been very tired.” He blindly gripped Greg’s hand. “We’ve mostly assumed I work too hard as all the prenatal visits showed she was healthy.”

“You most likely do work too hard, Mr. Holmes, but at your assistant’s request we ran a full blood panel. In addition to a low iron content, your blood had extremely high levels of progesterone, which was why you were so tired. Your assistant also shared that you’d been seeing spots floating in your vision, and occasional heart palpitations?” Dr. Richards asked, checking Mycroft’s chart. “Is all of that true?”

“Mycroft?” Greg asked, frowning. “Your heart? Your vision? You didn’t say anything.”

“It wasn’t very often. I just chalked it up to work.”

“And if it weren’t for the progesterone levels and anemia, I would as well.” Dr. Richards closed the file. “However, with your record, there was one other thing. You were on the birth control Amitrol, and in a few cases, extremely rare, taking it too close to the conception of the child, which in your case, I understood it failed, can cause a rather scary reaction. It has to be combined with a few other health markers, all of which you fit, as well as low iron, but when it does, it releases a manufactured antigen, called Antologen-93. It bonds to the red blood cells and can cause them to mutate, most often during labor, due to the wash of stress hormones that are released by the body, making it so the body cannot get enough oxygen, simply because the receptors have been blocked. To put it simply, the blood doesn’t work anymore. It’s a slow suffocation. As a full grown adult, you may have been all right, but Amaryllis, does she have the same markers as you, could have died.” She paused and looked at them both, shocked and afraid. “I know this is frightening, and sounds like a horror story, but believe me, there is nothing simple about bringing a new life into the world. You are not to blame, in any way.”

Greg nodded slowly, wetting his lips. “So...she’ll be fine, right?” he asked weakly. “I mean. There won’t be any more complications?”

“There will be a few complications from the early birth, but as I said, you have an extraordinarily healthy baby. We had to go in and take some fluid from her sinus cavities, but it was a mostly noninvasive procedure, and she’s obviously fine. I’d suggest watching her, and watching Mycroft as well. If you find yourself short of breath, or the spots come back, I want you to come in immediately. The same for the heart palpitations. I also want a full blood panel every two weeks for three months. Just to be safe.”

“Of course,” said Mycroft, feeling overwhelmed but doing his best to keep it together. “Obviously I shouldn’t go back to that birth control, but is there one that will be safe for me?”

“Yes there is, and I’ll give you a list. This is quite honestly a one in a billion chance that something like this happens, which is why Amitrol is still marketed,” Dr. Richards said. “It’s a very good drug, and quite safe. Unless you happen to have the health history and genetic markers of one Mycroft Holmes.”

Mycroft nodded. “Thank you Doctor.”

“You're welcome. Now, I'll leave you two to dote on your daughter, and I'll bring some paperwork by. Mr. Holmes, you can leave in the next two days as long as your bloodwork comes back healthy, and Amaryllis should be able to go home with you in a week or two.”

“Thank you,” said Mycroft, looking down at his daughter. She'd fallen asleep and looked so fragile. “ _Gregory,_ ” he said, voice threatening to crack.

“Shh, love. I know,” Greg murmured, wrapping an arm around him. “It’s okay. She’s fine. You’re fine.”

Mycroft buried his head against his shoulder, breathing him in, tears welling up. He should have seen a doctor, shouldn't have just chalked it up to work, all because he was too damned stubborn to put the life inside him before work.

“My, it’s not your fault,” Greg whispered. “You had no idea. You heard her, they probably wouldn’t have even caught it until after. It’s not your fault, love. I know you’re blaming yourself, but you couldn’t have known.”

“I work too hard. I put it before everything. Before her, before us.”

“Mycroft. You work very hard, but you didn’t put everything before her. You always made sure to get checked up, made sure the nursery was getting done. You had every vitamin known to man. You did everything right.”

Mycroft sobbed softly, trying to rein himself in. He couldn't but feel like there was something more he could have done.

“Shh,” Greg soothed, rubbing a hand over his back, just holding them. “It’s frightening, I know. It’s all right, love. It’s all right.”

**

Greg slumped down in the hall a few hours later, completely exhausted, head in his hands. Mycroft had had to ask for a sedative to get himself to sleep, unable to stop crying. Amaryllis had gone back to her cot in the NICU, and Greg had promised he’d go sit with her after Mycroft drifted off. He looked up as a cardboard cup was shoved at him. “Sherlock?” he asked, taking the cup. “Shit.”

“As John is fond of reminding me, you need to take care of yourself as well.” He sat next to Greg.

“Christ, I don’t even know what time it is. Or when I last ate something,” Greg said, sipping the milky tea.

“Come along, then,” said Sherlock, tugging him to his feet and all but dragging him to the elevator.

“Sherlock, I have to go to the-fine,” Greg said, shrinking at the look the omega gave him. “Fine.”

Sherlock steered him through the cafeteria, made sure he had proper food and even got something for himself as a show of solidarity.

Greg ate slowly, the food curdling in his stomach. “Did you hear what happened?” he asked. “I messaged John, but if you were at the hospital already….”

“There was a potentially life threatening complication that my brother is almost certainly blaming himself for though there's no reason.”

Greg couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah,” he said weakly. “That’s pretty much the whole of it. Any advice? He quite literally cried himself to sleep just now. And if you ever tease him about that, you’ll never see a case again, Sherlock. I mean it.”

“Mummy and Father are with him while I'm distracting you. And I won't, “ Sherlock said seriously.

“Christ, your parents are here too,” Greg groaned. He rubbed his temples. “I’m barely keeping it together, Sherlock.”

“I'm aware. When did you sleep last?”

Greg frowned. “The night before Mycroft went into labor?” he said hesitantly, taking another glug of coffee.

“Then you need to go home and sleep after this. Your mate and pup are being looked after. I'm putting you in a cab. If you argue I'll get Anthea involved.”

“But I can’t leave! Not if they’re both here,” Greg said angrily. “What kind of alpha does that make me?”

“You can't take the best care of them if you're exhausted,” Sherlock replied as under the table he texted Anthea.

“Sherlock. I can’t make myself leave. There’s nothing for me at home. I can sleep here somewhere. Kip on a chair.”

“You need a proper rest,” Anthea appeared by his elbow.

“You weren’t fucking joking, I see,” Greg muttered. “Fine. But I’m going up to NICU for a minute, and I’m going to see Mycroft before I leave as well.”

“I'm escorting you,” said Anthea.

“Fine,” Greg said, glaring at the beta. He stood and let her take him up to the NICU, just making sure Amaryllis was still where he’d left her, was still in her cot. “You know…” he said quietly. “I haven’t even held her yet. Mycroft did, he got to nurse her. And I didn’t want to take her when he was so upset.”

“Take a few minutes,” Anthea said quietly.

Greg nodded and stepped in, putting on a gown and mask. He picked Amaryllis up gently, cradling her in his hands, tears welling up. “She’s so small,” he whispered, voice cracking. “Oh god. She hardly weighs anything.”

Anthea had followed him in. She put a hand on his back. “And that's why she needs her da at full strength. But she's in good hands here.”

“I know,” Greg murmured, rocking back and forth. “I know.”

He waited a few more minutes then set her down, Amaryllis frowning and flinging her fists in the air. Greg gave a wet chuckle, and wrapped his arms around Anthea. “Thank you.”

Anthea awkwardly hugged him. “Let's see Mycroft before we go.”

“All right,” Greg said. He dug one of Mycroft’s crumpled handkerchiefs from his pocket and wiped his eyes off. “Do I look like I’ve been crying?” he asked. “I don’t want him to know I have been. I’m trying to be strong,” he said, almost guiltily.

“You look fine. And he may still be asleep.”

“Right. Not if his mother’s there,” Greg said with another quiet laugh.

Anthea patted his arm and led him out.

Greg frowned as a nurse rushed past them on the way down. “That doesn’t bode well for someone,” he said. He frowned deeper as he got a scent of blood on the air, paling as he recognized the scent of distressed omega. “Mycroft,” he whispered, taking off at a run.

Anthea took off after him. Mycroft's Da caught him before Greg could go in the room and shook his head. “The doctors are working,” said Mummy.

“What happened?” Greg gasped, trying to break free from the omega’s grasp. “He was fine, he was sleeping! Let me go, please!”

“A hemorrhage. He'll be fine, Gregory.”

“Son, sit down.“ Greg's da came around the corner.

Greg practically snarled. “He’s hurting!” he snapped, still struggling

Mycroft’s father let out a huff, grasping the back of Greg’s neck. “Gregory,” he said softly. “Look at me.” Greg froze at the quiet voice, meeting his eyes. “You need to sit down. If you go in there, you will only interrupt what they are doing and be a distraction. You will cause more harm than good,” he said, releasing Greg as the alpha stopped struggling, guiding him into a chair. “Relax.”

Greg blinked, breath thready and chest heaving. “He needs me,” he said weakly. “I need him. What if…”

“No what ifs,” the omega said, pressing his lips to Greg’s brow, glancing over as Sherlock made an appearance, wide-eyed and pale. “He will be fine.”

“Let's all sit,” suggested Pierre. “Son, you still need to get some sleep.”

“I'm not leaving!” Greg snapped. “Not while he's hurting.”

“Relax,” Mycroft’s father murmured, pressing his wrist to Greg's nose. Greg gasped, clutching his wrist, inhaling the family scent.

Mummy pushed Sherlock to a seat beside Greg. Anthea stood a few steps away, working on her mobile.

Greg was fighting tears, hearing the commotion and unable to help. He jumped up as they wheeled Mycroft out, running him down the hall, only to be grabbed and held in an iron grip by the two fathers. “Please, please lemme go,” he begged. “I need to go.”

“You're scaring Sherlock,” said Pierre in his ear. The pregnant omega was practically curled up in a ball.

Greg gave a low keening whine, and dropped to his knees, with a sob, reaching out to Sherlock and pulling the omega to him. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he cried, sobbing into Sherlock’s shoulders.

Sherlock tucked his nose against him. Not his own alpha but still family. Pierre gave the Holmes parents a look over the pair.

“I'm Elizabeth, and this is Edgar,” Mummy said quietly. “We’re very glad to finally meet you Pierre, though this is not how we’d think to.”

Edgar nodded his agreement, and Pierre crouched down beside the pair, wrapping his arms around them. “Greg. Breathe, sweetheart. I know you're frightened. Mycroft is not your mother. He’ll be fine. You’re not going to lose him.” He stroked his hand through Greg’s hair. “Mycroft will be fine.”

John came skidding around the corner himself a few moments later. He took in the scene and moved to Sherlock’s side, not even trying to separate them.

Greg was still shaking, surrounded by his family, heart breaking with fear, close to hyperventilation.

“Breathe, Greg. Deep breath in, deep breathe out. You too, Sherlock,” muttered John.

Greg obeyed the command almost on instinct, Pierre guiding them to the couch down the hall, laying them down, wrapped around each other.

Greg cried until he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore, falling asleep wrapped in Sherlock’s hold. He barely noticed when he was lifted and shifted, taken into a different room and laid on a cot.

**

“Sweetheart?” Pierre murmured. “Greg. Mycroft’s out of surgery.”

Greg woke slowly, eyes and heart heavy. “Da?”

“Right here, son.” Pierre wrapped Greg up in a hug like he used to when it stormed and his son was afraid.

“Is he okay?” Greg whispered, tearing up again, wanting nothing more than his family.

“Yes. They're both fine. I know how scared you are.”

“I just can't lose him, Da. I can't lose them.”

“I know son. Believe me.” He kissed his forehead. “Come on, I'll take you to him. He might wake up, it’s been a while.”

Greg nodded and picked himself up, following his father nervously.

Pierre took him into the room. Mycroft looked small on the bed, almost frail. Paler than usual as he breathed steadily.

Greg’s breath hitched and he went to the side of the bed, picking up Mycroft’s hand, careful of the iv line coming out of it. He leaned down, brushing their lips together. “I love you,” he murmured, hoping that Mycroft would hear him. “Please wake up, love.”

Mycroft slowly opened his eyes. He was cold. Scared. Gregory. He breathed in his alpha's scent and shakily reached for him.

“Hi,” Greg said, smiling down at him. “You're awake love. I'm so glad you're awake,” he breathed. “God, you scared me.”

“What happened?” Mycroft asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“I...I'm not actually sure,” Greg admitted. “I panicked. You hemorrhaged.”

“I'm sorry I scared you.”

“Don't be sorry. It isn't your fault.”

“Hold me?” Mycroft asked, hating the vulnerability in his voice, but needing his mate.

Greg nodded and climbed carefully into the bed, curling around him. “I got to hold Amaryllis,” he said softly.

“Is she well?”

“She's perfect,” Greg whispered. “She's tiny and beautiful and she's got that bright head of hair and I can't believe she's ours.”

Mycroft nodded and nuzzled against his throat. “You smell like Sherlock.”

Greg chuckled. “Sorry. I said I panicked, I meant it. I think I fell asleep wrapped around him.”

“It was probably good for both of you, then. I am sorry I frightened all of you. You’ve been crying.”

“I have yeah. Sorry,” Greg murmured.

“I’ll stop apologizing if you do. Please, sleep here by my side?”

“They had to drag me away earlier,” Greg said quietly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “They won't be able to now.”

**

John stroked a hand through Sherlock’s hair. “You have to eat love. Please?”

Swallowing hard, Sherlock looked at the plate John had set in front of him. With a trembling hand he lifted the fork to his mouth. Sentiment. He’d almost lost his brother today and it had affected him far worse than he’d ever thought it might.

“Thank you,” John said, kissing his temple.

“If I finish, can we go back to the hospital and see him?”

“If you rest a bit,” John said with a sigh.”If you run yourself ragged, you'll end up in the hospital too, honeybee.”

“I slept earlier.” Sherlock ate mechanically.

“I know. Just an hour, all right? I'll lie down with you too.”

Sherlock nodded, leaning in to scent him. “Am I going to have so much trouble with our pup?”

“No,” John said strongly, sensing how shaken Sherlock actually was, how uncharacteristically delicate and frail he seemed. “I can't promise anything, but Mycroft is a special case. You weren't on that birth control, you don't have the same genetic make up, or the anemia. We’ll do a full blood panel when we go back, all right? Just to check.” John kissed him again. “We will have to watch for hemorrhaging though.”

Sherlock bit his lip and nodding, finishing the small meal, then all but dragging John to their bed and curled up tightly next to _his_ John. “I’ve never seen Mycroft so scared. Or Lestrade,” he said quietly, as if sharing a secret.

“Love does that, Sherlock. If you'd been in that bed, I probably would have done the same.”

“You’ve already proven more than once that you will save my life.”

“If I had to, I'd die for you love,” John murmured. “I would.”

‘Please don’t,” whispered Sherlock. “I need you here.”

“I won't leave you. They'd have to drag me away,” John said quietly. “I won't. Sleep, and we'll head back, all right.”

Sherlock nodded, held him tighter, and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

**

Greg looked up as Sherlock and John appeared at the door. “My?” he murmured. “Sherlock's here. Can you wake up for me?” He smiled as Mycroft stirred. “He's still sleepy from the anesthesia.”

John murmured soothingly to Sherlock, guiding him in. “Go on. It's fine.”

Mycroft gave Sherlock a smile. “Greg, why don’t you go with John and get some tea,” he said softly.

“You sure?” Greg asked hesitating.

“Yes. Come here Sherlock.” Mycroft patted the edge of his bed.

Greg frowned, but did as he was told, lingering in the door until John pulled him away. “Come on, Greg. We’ll get some tea, and then go visit the NICU.”

Sherlock sat, hesitatingly leaning forward to scent Mycroft.

Mycroft offered his throat to him. “I’m okay.”

Sherlock nodded, then looked back, making sure that no one was around. “Mycroft. I...I was so frightened, My,” he said weakly, wrapping his hands around his stomach. “I’ve never seen Lestrade like that. I’ve never seen you like that.” He averted his gaze biting his lip.

“Come here.” Mycroft scooted over and tucked him against his side like he used to when they were children. “We’re all okay. I know we were all scared, but we will all be okay.” He ran his fingers through Sherlock’s hair, breathing in his scent. “You’ll have your pup just fine and we can raise our children together.”

“John said the same thing,” Sherlock muttered, twisting the edge of Mycroft’s hospital gown in his hands. “But neither of you really know that.”

“You’re right, Sherlock. Even I can’t predict all the twists and turns of the future. I could have never predicted John Watson, for instance.”

“I never expected him to want me,” Sherlock said, tucking his face into Mycroft’s chest. “But he wanted me. And now…”

“Now you’re going to get married and raise a child together.”

Sherlock nodded. “And I want you to be there too. That’s all I could think was what if you weren’t and I had to be alone again. No one understands, not like you,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

Mycroft felt tears at the corners of his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, brother mine.”

“I wouldn’t let you,” Sherlock replied.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find us on AO3 at [Janto321 ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/)and [HumsHappily](http://archiveofourown.org/users/humshappily) or on tumblr at [merindab ](http://merindab.tumblr.com)(janto321) and [HumsHappily](http://hums-happily.tumblr.com)!


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